


you take me the way i am

by cosmicocean



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst Lite, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, dirk is trying very hard to be romantic and he doesn't succeed but bless him he does try, i wouldn't say there's angst in this, they're all kinda useless so it's at least not just dirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicocean/pseuds/cosmicocean
Summary: This is how Todd tries to take care of people. Through protecting them. It’s his way of trying to help, and he is constantly trying to come through every time the opportunity presents itself.So who’s taking care of Todd?Where Dirk tries his hand at romantic gestures, and has some trouble with it.





	you take me the way i am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavellington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavellington/gifts).



> This is set in that universe a lot of us were writing in in-between season one and season two, where they got out of Blackwing out-of-story and season two did not happen, just because it was how I started working on the story and it was easiest that way.

The thing about Todd, as far as Dirk can tell, is that he wants to protect everybody.

There are, of course, lots of things about Todd. He’s smart, and he’s funny, and he’s handsome, and he’s clever, and really, the majority of things about Todd he likes quite a bit.

(there are, of course, other things, like his self loathing, and how he tends to retreat into himself rather than talk to anyone when he’s upset, and how he likes to make fun of the large tea cabinet from time to time, but the things he doesn’t like are thoroughly in the minority, and he’s working on the first two)

But one of the big things, one of those things that majorly make up Todd as a person, is that he tries to protect everyone he can. _Constantly._ Even when he doesn’t have to. Dirk has an annotated list on his phone of everyone Todd has tried to protect, which is ever expanding, but includes:

-Amanda (despite the fact she was wielding a giant wrench at the time)

-Ken (who only counts as a half, because Ken is rather capable, and he had tried to protect Todd, who had tried to protect Ken, who had tried to protect Todd, so they had ended up just taking down the assailant in question together)

-Martin (a particularly impressive one that had Martin looking almost impressed, causing him to clap Todd on the shoulder hard enough to make his knees buckle and rumble “thanks, guitar man”, because it’s entirely plausible that Martin denotes people with nouns related to their interests)

-Farah (who looks kind of baffled every time Todd tries, like a tank would probably look at a unicycle trying to defend it from literally anything)

-the shark kitten, now named Mittens McMasterson The Third, something that has caused Todd to insist that should they acquire any more pets, Dirk is not allowed any more naming rights

-Cross, Gripps, and Vogel, all at once, which had resulted in delighted laughter and the present of a burlap sack containing 1,203 guitar picks

-Bart

-no, really, _Bart_ , that’s worthy of two entries, if _Farah_ had looked baffled, honestly

The point is, Todd tries to protect everyone. Dirk hasn’t even put himself on the list, because of how often he would be on it, which is handy, because Dirk’s actually lost track of the number, so if the list included those, he’d just have to have a few question marks there. And it’s sweet, _beyond_ sweet, even. It’s one of the many things Dirk… is fond of, about him. Extremely fond of, because any other words are, he thinks, at this stage in the game, probably a little much, even in his own head. 

But the numbers aren’t even. Dirk’s got a list for that on his phone, too (he’s grateful that Todd never goes into his Notes) that tabulates how it balances out so far, as he sees it. He likes lists, when there’s the time to make them. They provide the illusion of logic and sense to the universe, and Dirk’s always been a big fan of denial. _This_ list is of good things one has done to the other and contains stuff such as:

-saving his life _countless_ times (Todd)

-making sure he doesn’t lie to his sister anymore (Dirk)

-breaking him out of Blackwing (Todd, and should probably also be on the list twice, because that’s the big one)

-offering to have Todd live in his apartment because his had been torn apart by the CIA (Dirk)

-building the agency together (mutual??? unclear)

-sitting up with him when the anxiety leftover from Blackwing circles around and smacks him in the face (Todd)

-eventually just sleeping in the same bed with him (Todd)

-waking up after a bad nightmare to Todd, an arm wrapped around him, snoring usually softly (Todd, technically the same as that above point, but still very nice)

There is of course a point that _isn’t_ on there, namely, when about two and a half to three months after Todd had moved in and about three or four weeks after they’d started sleeping in the same bed, Dirk had almost absently told Todd that he’d follow him anywhere he asked when Todd made a joke about Dirk following him down to the nearby Starbucks to get coffee, because, well, it’s _true_ , and he had stared at him for a solid fifteen to twenty seconds, certainly long enough for Dirk to get concerned and be on the verge of asking if he was having some kind of odd attack before he had strode up to Dirk and quite firmly kissed him. But while that was a good (good, great, wonderful, superlative, really quite nice) thing, and while the action might have specifically been something that Todd had done to him, Dirk’s response was wholeheartedly, enthusiastically mutual, and all that had come after relationship-wise was also mutual, so he’s not sure it counts.

When going over the whole list, it results in the numbers being overwhelmingly in Todd’s favor. Which isn’t right, obviously, and must be rectified. Dirk’s not quite sure _how_ to execute such a thing. He has a feeling that’s jangling around in his head, but he can’t quite pin an action to the feeling, so it’s just sort of rattling around his head, waiting to launch itself to a plan once he finds it. He will, he’s sure. He likes to consider himself reasonably persistent, but in all Todd-related instances, he’s _exceedingly_ persistent.

 

First, of course, Dirk asks Amanda.

“What are things that your brother likes?” he asks. He’s been sitting at a right angle for twenty-seven minutes when he calls, back and head flat against the floor, arse, legs, and ankles flat against the wall. He’d thought it might make him think better about this case because people seemed to think better in weird positions in the movies, but it hasn’t, it’s just made him vaguely achy. He had sworn to make it to at _least_ forty-nine minutes, however, and he’s resolved, so he’s calling Amanda to take his mind off the general soreness, and also try and interrogate her about possible approaches. Mittens is sleeping on his chest, so he supposes this position is at least good for something.

Dirk can practically see Amanda blowing all of the air out of her cheeks in his head as a rush of static comes through the phone. “You. Guitars. Sleeping. Scowling. Dogs. Weezer. Blasting ‘I Want To Break Free’ through his door around midnight because teenage rebellion or whatever while some of us are trying to sleep before finals. Chocolate. You again. _The Mummy._ One AM. _Twilight Zone._ Being a general loser.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. Todd and Amanda have attained some form of equilibrium, so he knows the last one is a regular sibling jab and not a bitter sibling jab. “Was that in order?”

“Not sure. You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m not sure how helpful that is yet.”

“You’re the one dating him.” Dirk can hear the distant sounds of things crashing about in the van around her. At least, he _assumes_ it’s the van. “Why are you crowdsourcing whatever this is?”

“I have a plan, only it’s not really a plan, it’s some thoughts, and I also have this idea, which is less an idea and more a feeling, and I’m trying to marry the two into something that will provide exactly what I’m looking for.”

“…I didn’t understand any part of that, but I bid you luck.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, I have to go break some guy’s nose, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Amanda. Good luck yourself.”

“Thanks, Dirk.”

Dirk hangs up the phone and returns to lying in silence, closing his eyes, stroking Mittens absently. A few minutes later, Todd walks through the door with groceries. Dirk hears his footsteps stop near him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to accelerate my brain function through ludicrous positioning.”

“…so you sat like that and you’re too stubborn to stop?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Okay. Have fun.”

Dirk’s phone beeps to let him know that he’s fulfilled his time obligations. “A _ha!_ ” He moves to stand up, Mittens scrambling off his chest, glaring at him, and then haughtily scooting into the kitchen. His entire body protests and he goes to his knees. “ _Owwwwww_ , ow, ow, no, mistake, _mistake_.”

Todd snorts from the kitchen as he puts away the food. “How long were you sitting like that?”

“Forty-nine minutes exactly.”

“Then yeah, that’s going to happen.”

“I’m very tough, Todd.” Dirk flops over onto his stomach, splaying his arms out. He feels Todd pat his head a little hesitantly and he smiles down at the floor.

“I know you are.”

 

Dirk asks Ken next. The two of them had been in Blackwing together, and Friedkin had often thrown them together in increasingly desperate attempts to see if anything happened, so they’d become friends half out of necessity, half out of genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The continuation of their friendship is solely out of the company enjoyment.

“What do you think Todd would like?” Dirk stirs the sugar into his coffee at their cafe they’re in. Ken blinks at him over his cheese and cherry danish.

“I… don’t know how to answer that.”

“Because you don’t have an answer or you don’t understand the question?”

“…both?”

Dirk picks at his croissant, idly pushing bits around with his fork. “I like Todd.”

“I’d put that together.”

“And I want him to be happy.”

“I was hopeful about that one.”

“And I want to know things he likes because I think they would make him happy.”

“And I’m the person you chose to ask?”

“Well, I asked Amanda first but I didn’t get any ideas from what she said.”

Ken looks amused. “And when you couldn’t get any ideas from his sister, you went ‘hey, I’ll ask his casual friend instead’?”

“Listen, Ken, you’re the most normal friend I’ve got, who else am I going to ask? The Rowdies would tell me to break things in his honor, and _Bart?_ Can you imagine what Bart would say?”

Ken grimaces. “Fair enough. I still don’t have anything to give you, though.”

“I suppose it was a long shot.” Dirk takes a sip of his coffee. “How is Bart, by the way?”

“She’s good. She’s somewhere in town, you know-“ Ken glances around, lowering his voice before continuing. “Taking care of someone. I think, anyway, she said she had a hunch.” Ken smiles fondly. “We’re watching Miss Marple whenever we hunker down at a hotel for the night, she’s really into them.”

Bart’s still an iffy thing for Dirk, honestly, she’s a bit scary and murdery and _did_ try to kill him. But she makes Ken quite happy, and he knows for a certainty that there’s no way she’d ever hurt him, so he makes the effort. He smiles back at Ken. “Sounds nice.”

They get to enjoy their food together for another ten minutes or so, chatting until Bart shows up, blood under her fingernails and covered in what looks like motor oil, and tells Ken that they’ve got to run cause “that guy I was after had some friends and they don’t like me”, giving a greeting nod to Dirk seemingly as an afterthought. Ken leaves with an apologetic shrug and a promise to text him. Dirk says goodbye agreeably, having foreseen that something like this could happen, and having picked a cafe that wasn’t his favorite as a result.

 

Dirk does not ask Farah, because she’s even more easily embarrassed and awkward about the concept of emotions even when they’re not hers, so he figures both of them are happier if no questions are thrown out there.

 

Dirk eventually gives up on tackling questions involving things Todd likes, because really, that’s ridiculous. Dirk _knows_ what Todd likes. Asking other people things he enjoys is pointless, because he has a reasonably good idea of that.

The thing that must _actually_ be tackled, he thinks, is the feeling. The one that’s been bouncing off the interior walls of his body with no name attached. _That’s_ the thing that must be contemplated here. There is a plan that can be created thanks to the feeling, once said feeling has a label.

Dirk spends a lot of quiet moments thinking it over. Not the him-and-Todd moments, obviously, the ones where it’s just the two of them, and Dirk makes Todd laugh, or Todd says something nice that makes Dirk’s cheeks tingle a little. Those times aren’t ones reserved for thinking anything seriously over, except for an occasional fleeting _I want to make him happy, always_ , whenever Todd does something like knock over several things on the coffee table because he’s reached out blindly to grip something to steady himself when he’s laughing uproariously. Rather, he thinks about it in the bits and bobs of his life, zoning out when he watches TV, or when he’s doing laundry, or doing agency paperwork (the last of which has had to stop, as of recently, after he ticked a box actually stating that their client, an 89 year old man, was Farah’s child).

It’s a bit of a surprise, then, when the answer doesn’t come to him at the end of a thinking session, but upon waking abruptly in the middle of the night. It’s not a nightmare awakening- Dirk can’t actually remember the dream, but his heart isn’t pounding and his hands aren’t clammy, so he knows that if he dreamt anything, it wasn’t unpleasant. He blinks a little hazily at the ceiling, trying to avoid getting his bearings so he can get back to sleep, when the answer hits him.

_Taking care of._

That’s the feeling, the one that suddenly stops ricocheting upon his realization, screeching to a halt triumphantly now that it has a name, instead settling in his mind and his chest.

This is how Todd tries to take care of people. Through protecting them. It’s his way of trying to help, and he is constantly trying to come through every time the opportunity presents itself.

So who’s taking care of Todd? They all try, of course, but Todd deserves to be taken care of _gloriously._ He deserves to be given wonderful things, extravagant things, _amazing_ things, he deserves fabulous gestures and wondrous presents and everything Dirk can manage to give him.

And right there, Dirk thinks, _right there_ , that’s the answer. Dirk needs to do romantic things. Considerate, thoughtful boyfriend sort of things. He’s not entirely sure what those are. He’s been in relationships before, but they’ve always been fleeting things, ephemeral starts and half-middles and swift inevitable finishes hastened by the nature of his interconnection with the universe. This is the first time someone has stayed this long, and that Dirk’s cared this deeply about. And he wants to do those grand, marvelous things.

Todd must have woken when Dirk did, Dirk probably jerking a bit into consciousness. He shifts a little from where he’s lying, draped over Dirk’s chest.

“Whazat?” he mumbles. “Izzit nightmare?”

He shakes his head even though Todd can’t see it. “No, it isn’t… I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a bad one.”

“Y’sure?”  
“Mm-hm.” Dirk lightly pats Todd’s arm. “Just have to get back to sleep now.”

“Mm’kay.” Todd curls up into him a little further, and soon he can hear the sound of his snores. Dirk smiles at the ceiling.

He is going to _ace_ this.

 

Dirk ends up googling “what does a good boyfriend do” (he considers getting a Cosmo or something but that would almost certainly be suspicious and he doesn’t want Todd to know what he’s up to because he feels like that’ll take away from it) because his mind’s a blank whenever he tries to figure it out on his own. He googles a few different variations on the question as well, and eventually has a few different answers. There’d been quite a few results, some of them interesting, some of them lewd (some of them a Venn diagram between lewd and interesting), and he’d managed to narrow them down to a handful of options; flowers, chocolate, opening doors for him, and cooking him a good amount of food.

He decides to try flowers first. He’s not _entirely_ positive about how Todd would take to a large bouquet of flowers, but he’s seen Todd smile softly whenever he sees tiny pink flowers growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, and occasionally very gently brush his fingers against the petals when they’re standing by the restaurant near the agency’s petunia filled windowboxes, so he suspects Todd is in fact secretly fond of them. 

Dirk peruses things about flower language for a while before he gives up on it. He’s never going to get the nerve together to explain to Todd what they mean, and it seems like an awful lot of hassle, so instead he orders a sizable bouquet of daisies with little pink carnations dotted throughout and takes them home on the bus on a day where he knows for a fact Todd’s out having lunch with Farah. He carefully puts the vase on the rickety table Todd’s been using as a nightstand, beams at it, takes a picture, and heads off to the kitchen to grab some leftover pizza.

Dirk’s chewing on a pizza crust and watching a video of a cute dog that Amanda’s sent him when he hears a faint scuttling sound. He blinks, looking up, the crust still sticking out of his mouth. He peers around the kitchen floor, but sees nothing. He assumes it was all in his head and goes back to the video, texting Amanda _did you kidnap it?_ He expects that she didn’t, considering he hasn’t gotten a video of Amanda with the dog in her arms saying they’d named it something like Heavy Brick or Blunt Instrument or something, but it feels nice to ask.

The noise happens again. Dirk frowns, putting his phone on the kitchen counter. He starts to leave the room and investigate, pauses, and grabs a gigantic rolling pin. Amanda had bought it for them in case someone tried to break in, or if there was a rat. Oh shit, what if it’s a _rat?_ Maybe Dirk can make nice with it. Would Todd like a rat as a pet? What would Dirk even _name_ a rat?

Dirk creeps into the living room. Nothing. He cocks his head and hears it again. Their room? It sounds like their room. What could possibly have gotten in their room? He tiptoes to the door hesitantly and throws it open, hoping to surprise the possible human intruder/possible rat intruder lurking behind it.

What skitters out is not a human intruder _or_ a rat intruder, but rather what looks like a cockroach a little bigger than Dirk’s foot. Dirk screams and stomps out at it but misses. He gets a second chance, however, when _another_ giant cockroach comes out, and another, and _another._ Dirk screams again, hefting his rolling pin.

When Todd and Farah walk back in the door after their lunch about three minutes later, Dirk’s still swinging wildly, trying to get the mass of bugs that have somehow swarmed out from their bedroom under some semblance of squished control. He’s only gotten two and a half, due to the fact he just keeps jumping on top of things to try and get away from them. The half is because he got lucky on a swing, but he only got the bottom of it, so now it’s crawling around on it’s front legs, which seems worse than an alive and whole one.

“Jesus _Christ!_ ” Todd yelps, staggering back against the door as Farah draws the gun she’d had concealed on her somewhere. “What the _fuck_ , Dirk, where did these come from?”

“ _I don’t know._ ” Dirk swings at another from his perch on a chair. He doesn’t have a great reach, but what if he crouches down and it finally occurs to the roaches to crawl up furniture instead of just scuttling across the floor? _What if it crawls on him?_ Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. “ _But shrieking at them doesn’t kill them and I am very afraid._ ”

Todd looks around and grabs the coatrack, shaking off the jackets Dirk has meticulously hung on it.

“Hey, be careful with those, don’t let them-“

“ _I HAVE OTHER PRIORITIES RIGHT NOW, DIRK._ ”

Dirk opens his mouth to expand on the prices of the jackets, and how he doesn’t know if cockroaches chew things, but those are _not_ to be gnawed on, but then he sees Farah aiming, and gets distracted, eyes widening. “ _No_ , Farah, _don’t_ -“

Farah starts shooting at the bugs. Things get loud and chaotic.

 

Todd counts twenty-four roach carcasses by the end of it. It has to be Todd, because both Farah and Dirk are hanging back.

“I can’t believe you’re afraid of bugs, Farah.” Todd pokes at one of the corpses before shoveling it into the garbage bag he’s been corralling them in with a giant salad spoon that is _definitely_ getting put in their very tiny dishwasher, and _possibly_ never being used by Dirk again. “I didn’t think you were scared of anything.”

“I’m not scared of _bugs_ , bugs are easy.” She shuffles a little further behind Dirk. Dirk doesn’t like being the last line of defense in case one of them magically revives itself, but Farah’s saved them enough time that he powers through it. “I just don’t like roaches. They’re… inconvenient. They can’t _possibly_ be that big in real life. Where did these come from?”

“Our room.”

“Why were they in-“ Todd peers in their bedroom. “Are those flowers?”

Dirk blinks. Things start to connect the dots in his mind very quickly. “Oh. _Oh._ I got those at the, the, the florist, the one that’s fifteen minutes away or so, the fancy looking one, and it was _right_ across the road from the suspect, the one we couldn’t figure out, the one entangled in all this for no apparent reason, we knew she was connected to the magic things somehow-“

“Dirk.”

“And it’s got to be _her_ , she must have been casting spells and, and maybe the cockroaches were collateral, she embiggened them, maybe?”

“Dirk.”

“I don’t know why she would have done that, it could’ve been an accident, I suppose, I do things by accident all the time-“

“ _Dirk._ ”

“I wonder if there’s a specific spell to embiggen cockroaches, is embiggen a word, I feel like I’ve heard it before-“

“ _DIRK._ ”

Dirk only realizes that he’s started walking around and gesticulating when he stops doing both to turn to Todd, who’s looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. What?”

“Where did the flowers come from?”

Dirk draws up short. “Oh. Um.”

“I mean, they weren’t there when I left, right? I’d have remembered.”

“No, they weren’t, I got them to, er-“ He strikes on it. “Brighten up the apartment! I thought they might look nice.”

“And you put them in our bedroom? Where no one will see?”

“ _We’ll_ see them, and I wouldn’t classify us as _no one,_ Todd.”

Todd gives him that long look that Dirk’s on the receiving end of whenever he’s trying to suss out Dirk’s latest bullshit. Dirk keeps his face in the same pleasantly flippant expression and holds his ground until Todd shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “So I guess we go investigate the potential witch lady.”

“Didn’t you go talk to her and she threatened to punt you into the sun?” Farah asks Dirk.

Dirk sniffs. “She seemed to find me abrasive, yes, but at least I’ve never threatened to _kick_ anyone into a _giant heat thing._ ”

Farah turns to Todd. “And didn’t she scare you?”

Todd winces. “I’m not great at… people seriously flirting with me.”

“He’s really not,” Dirk agrees. “And I don’t enjoy it, either.”

“When people seriously flirt with you or when people seriously flirt with me?”

“Second one.”

Farah rolls her eyes. “Then I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Farah.” Dirk fondly taps her on the shoulder a few times. Farah doesn’t always seem to know what to do when it comes to prolonged and affectionate physical contact (hugs from Amanda seem enjoyed and everything else falls into a gray area), so he generally just hits her on the shoulder. She seems to appreciate and sometimes even visibly enjoy it. “You’re an excellent benefactress associate of the agency.” She also still insists occasionally that she isn’t precisely part of the agency, so he just makes up titles for her.

“Thanks.” Farah pulls on her hat, which Dirk had hung carefully back on the coatrack after he put it back in its proper place (although only after he’d hung his jacket back up). “ _Someone_ has to be, considering the two of you are so hopeless.”

“There are bullet holes in my floor from where you were shooting at bugs,” Todd observes dryly. 

Farah opens her mouth, closes it, and raises her finger. “Shut up.”

“You did a very good job of hitting them, though,” Dirk adds, shooting Todd a stern look. “And we are very appreciative of your abilities.”

“Farah knows that I think she’s basically James Bond.”

Farah smiles at Todd, hints of softness tinging her face. “I’m not, but thanks.” She points at Dirk. “No more flowers.”

“Duly noted.”

She points at Todd next. “I don’t have anything that you shouldn’t do but I assume there’s something because, well, you’re you, so whatever it is, don’t do it.”

Todd narrows his eyes and gestures towards the garbage bag of giant dead bugs. “Wanna carry this out to the dumpster for me?”

“ _Bye._ ” Farah immediately skirts out of the door. Todd smirks, looking pleased with himself, before kneeling down and studying the holes in the floor.

“At least there’s nobody in the apartment below us,” Dirk points out, crouching next to him. “And I’m sure they make you more punk somehow.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s something.” Todd runs his fingers over them. “Knowing us, we’re still probably gonna find a way to get caught in them and trip or something, though.”

Todd looks a little frustrated by the possibility, so Dirk thinks about what the most logical course of action could be and jumps at it the second he decides.

“Come on,” he says. He takes Todd’s hand and Todd’s fingers interlace with his what seems almost reflexively, something that makes Dirk feel a little tingly. “We can go get a rug. It’ll be harder to trip over them and they’ll still be there, so you’re still very punk.”

Todd smiles at him. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hm. You have the most…” Dirk flounders. “Fight authorityness credit now.”

Todd’s smile turns into a full blown grin. “Fight authorityness?”

“I was _trying_ to cheer you up, Todd, but I’ve changed my mind, this will be a rugless household and you’re going to stagger out for a drink or a snack in the middle of the night and your feet will hit the holes and you will stub your toe and you will be _very_ cross and it will serve you-“

“All right, all right!” Todd’s laughing. “Sorry, it was a nice gesture, now will you _please_ stop being a jackass so we can go to Bed Bath and Beyond or something?”

“Well, since you apologized so nicely.” Dirk stands and pulls Todd up with him. Todd grabs the bag of roaches.

“Hey, maybe _you_ want to carry-“ Todd swings the bag towards him. Dirk recoils.

“Todd, get that any closer, and you will be sleeping somewhere that isn’t our nice warm bed, a sad cold ditch or something.”

Todd laughs, which is one of Dirk’s favorite sounds, but he still keeps an eye on the distance between him and the bag until Todd chucks it in the dumpster by the apartment, at which point he closes the distance between him and Todd, loosely connecting their fingers as they walk to the bus stop.

 

So, yes, Dirk stumbles a bit getting out of the gate. But Todd’s swallowed the lie, it would seem, which means that it’s a cleanish slate to operate off of for the next one. He puts a few weeks in between the flower debacle and this next attempt, though, just in case that might make the slate a little cleaner, somehow.

Chocolate, he decides, is the next best move to make. After all, Amanda said Todd likes chocolate, so he knows for a fact that’s a thing he enjoys, so it’s a smarter move than the flowers. And chocolate doesn’t have bugs, especially weird mutant ones. So it should work. It should all work. 

Dirk has to make up for the flower incident, so he spends a lot of time calculating an appropriate approximate size for the chocolate box. Big, for sure, but _how_  big? He ends up deciding on “very”, getting a large box. He refrains from getting it in a heart like he’s sorely tempted to, because he thinks it might make Todd shrivel a little and that’s something he likes to avoid at all costs. There’s a scale of awkward emotional Todd, and while one of his favorites is “very happy and very flustered at experiencing an intense positive emotion so I’m going to shuffle around and go funny colors on the red spectrum while grinning at the floor until Dirk tips my face up and kisses me”, one of his _least_  favorites is “the concept of bright red hearts and pink hearts and general heart type things makes my Smiths loving soul curl up in a small ball and wish for death”, mostly because he knows how uncomfortable that particular iteration makes Todd, and he goes out of his way to avoid that. 

So instead Dirk just gets a big rectangular type box, and puts a very simple red bow on it, and puts it on the table when he gets home from the apartment. Todd’s still out running errands, which means he has time to think about the correct box placement. He ends up putting it in a beam of sunlight. That’ll look nice, right? Very nice and sweet and such. He leaves it there and starts picking up the living room, which he’s procrastinated on for a few days and is looking a little bedraggled and sad. No sooner then he’s finished folding up the soft blankets they pile on the back of the sofa then there’s a knock on the door. He opens it up to stare at the crowd in front of him.

“I have _literally_ just finished picking up,” he says flatly. “And if you’re going to insist on _ruining_ that, then I’m not going to let you enter.”

The Rowdy Three all look considerably entertained at the idea of Dirk barring their entrance, but Amanda shakes her head.

“We’re not gonna trash your place,” she says. “We like you. You’re fine.”

Dirk thinks it’s highly likely that _Amanda_ likes him, and the Rowdy Three are (these days, anyway) in a constant state of being torn between being amused by him the way people are amused by very small dogs or simply tolerating his presence, but he’ll take it. Amanda’s word is law when it comes to the Rowdies. He stands to the side and they enter the apartment, looking around a little.

“S’better than the dumpsters we used to find you sleeping behind when you was even scrawnier,” Martin observes.

Amanda’s brow furrows. “Why were you-“

“ _So_ ,” Dirk says loudly, particularly unwilling to get into his past when it comes to former sleeping arrangements in the rougher years of his life. “Why are you here?”

“Drummer had a vision.” Vogel bounces on the balls of his feet a little. “She says you’re going to need the thing.”

“What thing?”

Vogel nudges Gripps, who nudges Cross, who nudges Martin, who nudges Vogel, who hands Dirk what appears at first to be a large nail, but on closer inspection is actually a key that’s just shaped like a nail.

“What is it for?”

Martin shrugs. “Ask Drummer.”

Dirk looks at Amanda, who also shrugs. “I dunno, I just saw you holding it and know that you’re going to need it.”

Dirk looks back at Martin. “Then why did you tell me to ask Amanda?”

Martin smirks. “Thought it’d be fun to fuck with you a little.”

Dirk points at him. “I don’t like you very much right now, so I’m going to stop talking to you, and also tell you that if you light that in this apartment, I’m going to take it out of your hand and throw it out the window, I don’t care that you’ll hit me, I have _rules._ ”

Martin pauses with the cigarette halfway to his lips. “Is that so?”

Dirk squares his shoulders and ignores the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Todd asking if he’s _really_ going to get his arse handed to him over a smoke. “Yes.”

Martin has that amused indulgent pet owner expression again and puts the cigarette in a pocket. “Alright, then.”

Dirk’s never going to understand them, so he gives up and turns to Amanda. “Thank you for whatever this key thing is.”

“It’s a key,” Cross cuts in.

“I, yes, I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not but I did see that, thank you-“

“Is that chocolate?” Gripps pipes up. Dirk narrows his eyes at him.

“Yes, and it’s _Todd’s_ , so don’t even try to-“

“How long’s it been in concentrated sunlight inside the box?”

“I don’t know, twenty minutes?”

“The softening point of chocolate is 85 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“ _What?_ ” Dirk rushes over to the chocolate as he hears Vogel behind him.

“Whoaaaaaaa, how’d you know that?”

“I’m a nifty science man.” Gripps sounds a little offended.

“Dude, you’re Gripps Nye the Science Guy.” Amanda sounds impressed. “Fucking sick.”

Dirk opens up the chocolate box and grimaces. The chocolate isn’t quite _soupy_ , but it’s definitely not quite a solid anymore either. “How could it have happened this fast?”

“It’s hot outside,” Amanda points out. “If you’ve carried it back, and then put it _right_ into sunlight-“

Dirk groans. “Typical.”

“It’s just a little soft. Put it in the fridge, that’s what I used to do when I found old chocolate bars in my backpack when I was in high school.”

Dirk grabs the box and pauses. “ _How_ old?”

Amanda shrugs. “Old-ish, I guess, I dunno, I couldn’t remember putting them in there.”

“And… you ate them anyway?”

Amanda gives him a look. “It’s _chocolate_ , dude.”

Fair enough. Dirk scrambles for the kitchen, trips over his feet, and hits the ground. Every single chocolate scatters across the floor, leaving brown dots in their wake. Dirk glares at them. He sees Vogel’s feet approach and instantly transfers his glare to him. This glare seems to do what roughly sixteen years worth of glares never had, and makes him back away a little.

“Aw, man.” Amanda kneels down across from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmph.”

“Do you want us to help you clean this up? We’ll do it.” The last three words are said a little more firmly than the others, so Dirk assumes this is an assertion to the Rowdies as well as him.

“No.” It’s his mess. He’ll take care of it, no matter how sullen he feels about it. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Todd won’t be upset, you know. Shit happens, he knows that.”

“He didn’t exactly _know_ about it, strictly speaking.”

Amanda looks fond. “Soft weirdo.” She pats him on the head affectionately before she stands. “Autobots, roll out.”

They all swan out of the apartment. Frustrated, Dirk sits up and scowls at the chocolates, now slowly melting into their floor.

“I hate you,” he mutters. “Not all chocolate, understand, just _you,_ in particular, are _awful._ ”

Dirk’s just finished cleaning it up when his phone vibrates with a call. He grabs it as he drops the box on the counter, intending to squish it down into the trash bag when the call’s done.

“Hello?”

“Hey, s’me.”

“Hello, Todd.” Dirk should probably open up a window to air out the scent of chocolate. “How are the errands type… errands?”

“Yeah, uh, listen.” Todd’s voice is sort of scratchy and exhausted in a way that Dirk recognizes. His stomach lurches, thoughts related to the whole chocolate mess flying out of his head. “I had an attack. Out here. In public. A bad one.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” Todd trails off. Dirk knows the look on his face, even if he can’t see it. “Tired. I guess I’m just tired on… a lot of different levels.”

“Where are you?”

“The alley by the bodega a half block away.”

It’s Todd’s instinct to hide after attacks in public. Dirk grabs his apartment key attached to the small keychain shaped like the squeezy toy he used to have and shoves it in his pocket. Todd doesn’t like coming back to the apartment alone after such instances, and Dirk would come to get him without blinking even if he didn’t already know this. “I’m on my way.”

“Thanks.”

 

Todd’s hunched in on himself when Dirk finds him, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Dirk rushes up to him.

“I didn’t keep the stuff I set out for,” he mutters. “I just dropped them and ran. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that, are you sure you’re all right?”

Todd nods once, staring at the ground. “People saw.” His voice is barely a whisper. “A lot of them.”

Dirk touches him on the shoulder gently. Todd still struggles sometimes with affectionate physical contact in public, so Dirk will generally just take his hand in the loosest fashion he can. He can be especially sensitive to it after attacks in front of a large group of people, so Dirk doesn’t do anything other than keep his hand lightly on his shoulder as they walk back to the Ridgely in silence, even knowing how drained Todd is and how badly he wants to support him.

Once they actually get inside the building, Todd sags against Dirk. Dirk wraps an arm around his waist and helps him up the stairs.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Todd mumbles.

“I know.” Dirk brushes a light kiss against his temple as he fumbles around in his pocket for his key. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, you can lie down there.”

Dirk gets them inside the apartment. Todd kicks off his shoes as Dirk shuts the door.

“Why does it smell like chocolate in here?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Come on.”

Todd lets Dirk carefully shepherd him into their room. He sheds his pants and crawls under the covers. “Lie down with me?”

“Of course.” Dirk slides in next to him. Todd immediately presses up against him, burying his face in his neck and tangling his fists in the front of his shirt. He feels the shaky inhale of breath against his skin.

“I hate this,” he whispers.

Dirk runs his hand through Todd’s hair. “I know. I’ve got you. It’ll be okay.”

“I know.” Todd already sounds like he’s falling asleep. “On both counts.”

Todd doesn’t say anything else, but soon his breathing evens out. Dirk slips his arm around his waist instead this time, resting the flat of his hand against Todd’s back. Todd burrows closer in sleep, and eventually Dirk drifts off himself.

 

Dirk tries not to be too frustrated that he’s oh-for-two on the whole romantic gestures front, but it’s hard.

This isn’t one of those things he’d _like_ to be good at, like taking pictures, or spelling “accommodate” right on the first try. This is one of those things that he _should_ be good at. He wants to take care of Todd. Todd _deserves_ to be taken care of, and he deserves to have someone who can actually do so. That he’s fucked up so spectacularly both times he’s tried to do this is leaving an unpleasant, uncomfortable, anxious sort of feeling, and he’s not enjoying it.

But he’s got to keep trying. So he grits his teeth through the feeling, and steadies his resolve.

 

Dirk tries to open a door for Todd and promptly slams it into his own forehead so hard that he falls flat on his back.

He’s torn between wanting to burn down every door he encounters from here on it in some sort of irritable vengeance or slamming his head into a few more of them, in case maybe it rights whatever is so _clearly_ wrong with him that he hasn’t been able to do this right.

“What would you do, Mittens?” Dirk asks their kitten a little mournfully while Todd’s in the shower one morning.

Mittens flicks her tongue out at his nose, which is a thought, but he’s not sure it would work on Todd.

 

“I don’t know what to _do_ ,” Dirk says, a little petulantly, he knows, but he’s _feeling_ a little petulant. “I feel like I’ve tried _everything._ ”

“Aye,” Thor agrees from behind him. “It sounds like you have thoroughly exhausted your romantic expertise.”

Dirk narrows his eyes even though he knows Thor can’t see him. “…are you mocking me?”

“Nay, my friend, I would not dare to dream of it. Might you stay still for just one moment, as your head bobbing in your indignation is causing me some difficulty in relation to my final check of measurements?”

“Right. Yes. Sorry.”

“My thanks.”

Dirk is, he has found over the years, exceptionally good at falling into things. He’d intended to go out and nab breakfast for him and Todd, but as he’d been zipping up his new yellow jacket, it had occurred to him that if _he_ was making a treasure map to bury a mysterious pocketwatch necklace of cryptic but certain importance, he wouldn’t have done it under _any_ of the x-s in the circle of x-s in the park a few blocks down, but in the _center_ of the circles of x-s. So he’d scrawled a hasty _gone treasure hunting might have solved it be back soon_ , and after a moment, had added _xo_ to the end of it, because as far as he understands, that means “hugs and kisses”, and, well, when Todd’s involved he generally wants to do that all the time. He’s not sure if it’s a little much or not, but he won’t know unless he tries, he supposes.

Anyhow, Dirk had left the message for Todd on a Post-It stuck to his phone, next to a quick facsimile of the map he’d dashed off indicating where he’d be in case he’d get distracted looking. First he’d stopped by the bakery, picking up one of those bear claws Todd liked and a croissant for him. Despite the precaution of the note and the map, he felt reasonably confident that he’d be back before Todd woke up, and if he tired himself out looking for the pocketwatch necklace, he wanted to have the food so he wouldn’t be too exhausted to go and get it after. While kicking at random rocks in the park where he was pretty sure the approximate center of the circle of x-s would be, one of them had turned out to be a switch or button of some kind, and the ground underneath had sort of… slid open, and Dirk had fallen through. When he’d looked up, the ground, now the ceiling, had shut back up. When he’d looked down, he’d found that the ground was inexplicably covered in flowers and grass despite the lack of sunlight above. It had made for a softer landing, at least.

He’d wandered around a little bit, using his phone (which was rendered useless as a phone underground, evidently) as a light, finding the pocketwatch in a small wooden box he’d literally stumbled over, until he’d meandered back to the place he’d fallen into, which sort of looked like a cavern carved out of the rock. Right as he’d come back, the ceiling had opened up again, and much to his surprise, Thor had fallen through it, evidently in quest of the same pocketwatch Dirk is. Unfortunately, the ceiling had closed right back up again, and all the pounding and shouting Thor had done wouldn’t open it up again. So Thor had lit the torches dotting the wall, and the two of them had settled in.

“I’m not sure I’m going to be as good at this as you.” Dirk’s fingers work in his lap. “I don’t have a lot of practice.”

“Worry not, my friend.” Thor pats his hair fondly before going back to carefully measuring his head as best he can. “This is an enjoyable activity for me to pass time with. I do not mind if you are inexperienced.” He gets up and sits in front of Dirk. “Do the daisies please you?”

Dirk beams at the flower crown in progress in Thor’s large hands, lowering his. “They do, thank you. I like how’ve paired them with the dandelions.”

“I thought perhaps they would go well with your jacket.”

“I appreciate it. Would you get me that carnation over there?” Thor obligingly picks it and hands it over. “Thank you.”

“It sounds as though you have been trying hard. Surely, your Todd appreciates the attempts?”

“Ah. I may not have, strictly speaking, _informed_ him of the, the-“

“Wooing?”

“Yes, that.”

“You have described him to be quite intelligent and observant. Certainly he will have noticed.”

“I hope not, if he has he’s seen how bad I am at it. What would _you_ do, I’m sure you’ve been a successful wooer. Although.” He eyes Thor’s arms. “Maybe you don’t need to be.”

Thor breaks into a wide grin. “Indeed, you are one of the few where merely flexing my arms has not done the trick.”

“Makes sense.”

“I have much skill in the art of courtship, however, for I do believe most firmly in it, and enjoy it as a practice. Have you considered that perhaps you are trying too much too quickly? After all, you have told me that you are unfamiliar with such matters.”

“It’s not that I’m.” Dirk fiddles with the flower crown. “It’s not my first time being with someone, I just haven’t wanted to… take care of someone this much before.”

“I understand that you possess much enthusiasm. I just believe that it’s entirely possible that your fervor is interfering with your wooing capabilities. Perhaps you would be better served by starting smaller?”

“Well. Maybe?”

Thor gently places the flower crown on top of Dirk’s hair. “I have finished. I assure you, you look quite charming.”

He smiles. “Thank you!”

“You are most welcome. All I can further advise is that you should contemplate the virtues of scaling back somewhat. Perhaps you could make him one of these, after you have practiced?”

“I don’t think Todd would want to wear a flower crown.”

“Did you not say that you had attempted to bequeath flowers to him as your first course of action?”

“Yes, but I think there’s probably a difference between ‘flowers pretty to look at’ and ‘an entire crown of flowers in my hair’ for him.”

“…and this is the man you have chosen to devote your life to?”

“ _Thor._ ”

“My apologies, friend. I have spoken out of turn.”

“No trouble.”

Dirk fidgets with the pocketwatch necklace he’s slung around his neck to keep from losing it. _Devote his life to._ It’s… not inaccurate, but probably something Todd’s not ready to hear. Maybe? He’s not sure. They’ve been together three or four months, which is a longer relationship than he’s ever had. People don’t stick around Dirk due to the way he is, so when it comes to actual, long term emotional sort of relationships, he’s flying a little blind. Not to mention he and Todd have done everything ass backwards in the first place. Everything is very odd, but he’s trying.

“Do you think I could keep this?” he asks to take his mind off those thoughts. “I like it. Maybe I could become a pocketwatch person. Todd says that I’m already ‘gunning for the eccentric old man’ position, so this could probably help.”

“I suppose if the power within it is safely removed, than yes, you could hold onto it.”

“Do _you_ know what this mysterious power is?”

“I confess that I do not.”

“Well, then.” Dirk’s not sure what point he’s just made, and by the look of amusement on Thor’s face neither does he, but he still feels vaguely self-satisfied. He returns to looking down at the pocketwatch. It’s gold and of an age he can’t quite determine, but he thinks he can reasonably assume it’s “old". The cover of the watch is intricate, the rim solid but the actual cover the golden outline of a flower with the tips of the petals fastened to the rim. The middle of the flower appears to be a daisy, and the insides of each petal contains two smaller flowers. “The young man who’s behind all this certainly liked flowers.”

“Aye, that much can truly be said.”

Dirk takes the finished crown from his lap and plops it on Thor’s hair. “There you are, by the way.”

“I shall treasure it always,” he says gravely, inclining his head a little, not seeming to mind that the crown is shaped a little crooked and a bit haphazard. “Thank you, Dirk Gently.”

“You’re welcome, Thor.”

“So you say your Todd will be looking for you soon?”

_His Todd._ What a marvelous thing. “Yes, I left him a note, he’ll figure it out and he’ll find us when he wakes up. He’s very smart, you know.”

“Yes, you have mentioned several times. Do you have any idea when that might be?”

“He’s slow to rise on a Saturday, but it should be soon, we’ve been down here a while.”

“I am glad, for it is only that I have grown quite hungry since we have come down here, and should like some nourishment when possible.”

“I’m sure it’ll be soon.”

“I greatly appreciated the gift you gave me of your croissant. It was a kind gesture.”

“You’re welcome.” The small bag containing Todd’s bear claw is still firmly tucked into Dirk’s jacket. He went out with a couple purposes and he intends to fulfill them both, and giving away or eating Todd’s breakfast will be in direct contradiction to that. He starts absently fiddling with the watch again. “So what do you think this _is_ , exactly? I mean, it’s certainly very pretty, but what do you think it _does_ , do you think it’s-“

Dirk accidentally presses down on the center of the flower. Abruptly, a beam of white light shoots from the pocketwatch, straight at the ceiling. Slowly, the ceiling opens up above them.

“Oh,” Dirk says faintly. “How about that.”

“Dirk?” Someone leans over the edge of the hole and looks down at them. Dirk squints up at him until his eyes adjust to the light surrounding him like a faint halo. He beams when he sees who it is.

“Hello, Todd! Good morning!”

“Are you, is that a field of _flowers_ underneath you, is that someone with you-“

“This is Thor! He fell into the same hole!”

Thor waves cheerfully. “Hello, Todd Brotzman! Dirk has spoken oft and well of you!”

“How long have you been down there?”

“A couple hours, I think. Did you find my map?”

“The map you left me was a Post-It note of a circle of x-s, with a circle in the middle that had an arrow pointing to it saying ‘I am here!’.”

“Then you _did_ find it!”

Dirk thinks Todd looks amused but he can’t tell. “I did. Should I go get a ladder or-“

“Nay, do not worry!” Thor cheerfully reaches over and grabs a hold of Dirk around the middle. “Brace for landing, my friend!”

“ _What_ , _Thor_ , _no_ -“

Thor throws Dirk up and over the edge of the hole. Dirk flails through the air, landing with a _thump_ on the grass, ending up sprawled face down. Immediately, there’s a hand on his arm, turning him over.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

“Yes.” Dirk lies there on his back for a moment, eyes closed. “I forgot that Thor likes to throw things to take care of problems.”

“Are you all right, Dirk Gently?”

Dirk doesn’t open his eyes. “Did you jump out of the hole, Thor?”

“I have found myself to be rather springy!”

“Dude, holy shit, is that Thor?”

“Did you bring your sister?”

“And Farah.”

“Why?”

“…it’s entirely possible that I panicked.”

Dirk opens his eyes. Todd’s kneeling by him and looking down at him with some vague concern. “You panicked?”

“I mean. I waited half an hour. Ish.” Todd’s got his “I’m having feelings and working out how to deal with that” face on. “I was worried. You get into trouble.” The face intensifies, as well as his cheeks getting dusted with a lovely shade of pink. “I like you.”

It’s not remotely the first time he’s said something like that, but every time Todd stumbles his way through telling Dirk that he means something to him with some awkwardness but also determination, Dirk feels a little like levitating. Especially in public. Todd finds it far easier to express his emotions in private than he does in public, which he never minds, but it always makes him feel special when Todd tries to push through it for him. He grins wide at Todd. “I like you, too.”

Todd grins back, ducking his head a little.

“I… think I shall go say hi to these young ladies,” Thor says quickly. “One seems rather excited to meet me.” He bends down and pats Dirk’s shoulder. “Enjoy your reunion, my friend.” He heads off.

“He’s subtle,” Todd observes, watching him go.

“Do you know, he can be, at times. He just doesn’t often choose to employ it. Not sure what his deciding factors are.”

Todd smiles down at him, the sunlight still behind him and reflecting off his hair. It’s such an enchanting sight that Dirk is distracted from any further musings on Thor’s judgment on when subtlety is appropriate. “What’s in your hair?”

“Flowers.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why did you ask? That’s a silly question, Todd.”

Todd grins. He’s got to stop doing things like that. He looks too nice. “Sorry, I guess.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Do you want to get up or be upright or whatever?”

“I think I would, yes.”

Todd stands and holds out his hand. Dirk takes it gratefully and lets Todd pull him to his feet. Todd doesn’t let go of it, which makes Dirk beam. “Is that a crown?”

“Thor made it for me. We were bored.”

“Okay, I have to ask, is he the _actual_ god of thunder or just some guy named Thor?”

“All evidence suggests the first one but I’ve never actually asked, I didn’t want to pry.”

“You _always_ want to pry.”

“Well. Maybe a little.”

“It looks nice on you. You look good.”

“Oh. I, er, um.” Dirk’s tongue suddenly feels too heavy and too light at the same time, face feeling hot. “Thank you.”

Todd’s smile from before, which had never really went away, grows. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re all… compliment-y this morning.”

“I’m normally compliment-y.”

“Not in public.”

“I woke up early for a second, and you were gone, and then I woke up for real, and you were still gone. I was worried.” Todd clears his throat. “Is it, uh, is it okay, or-“

“Yes,” Dirk says quickly. “Yes, certainly, absolutely, I, yes. I like it when you say nice things about me. Very much.”

Todd grins. “Good.”

“Good. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“It’s okay.”

“How long were you down there for?”

“Three or four hours, I think.”

“And you still talked to Thor about me, what did he say, _oft and well_?”

“Of course.” Dirk beams at him. “Again, I like you, too.”

Todd goes pink.

“Oh!” Dirk remembers, unzipping his jacket and pulling out the tiny bag. “I got you one of those bear claws you like. I wanted to get you breakfast, before all the-“ He waves the hand holding the pastry. “All the this, and I ended up giving my thing to Thor, he was hungry while we were down there, but I made sure to save yours! It’s a little smushed, sorry, but I don’t think by too much.”

Todd stares at him for a second. Then he tugs his hand free from Dirk’s so he can put it on the back of Dirk’s head and gently pull him in so he can kiss him on the cheek. Dirk blinks, blushing more intensely than before.

“Thanks,” Todd says.

“Welcome,” Dirk whispers.

“Friends!” Thor calls from where he’s giving Amanda a piggyback ride on his shoulders. It doesn’t seem to give him any trouble, something she’s gleefully remarking on to an amusedly watching Farah. “I still require sustenance! Shall we go to one of those diners that Dirk so likes to frequent?”

Dirk looks down at Todd. “Won’t it make your pastry irrelevant?”

“I’ll eat it later.” He moves his hand back to Dirk’s. “It’ll be a surprise treat.”

Dirk smiles. “Okay.”

 

Dirk does take what Thor says under consideration, really. He’s been around a long time, after all, and has a predilection for wisdom at _least_ sixty percent of the time, so it’s not the sort of thing he’d dismiss instantly. He _does_ , however, dismiss it what he’d call reasonably quickly, because, well, he’s a bit desperate at this point. He’s _got_ to try again as fast as possible, because if he doesn’t, maybe he forgets about it, or too much time in between attempts might make him even _worse_ at this somehow. He’s got to give it another go, and right away, so a day or so after the business with Thor is all wrapped up, he’s in the kitchen, recipes he’s printed out stuck carefully with magnets on the fridge to make them easier to consult.

“You really don’t need to do this, you know,” Todd tells him from the doorway where he’s been hovering, watching him.

“Ridiculous.” Dirk peers at the recipe, tapping the relevant bit with the wooden spoon in his hand. “You’re always making dinner.”

“You do sometimes, too.”

“Yes, but that’s just spaghetti. Spaghetti’s _easy._ Now go sit and play video games or irritably text your sister about how I’m annoying you or something.”

Todd looks amused, but walks into the living room. Dirk returns his attention to cooking.

He’s not _entirely_ sure what happens from there, to be perfectly frank. All he knows is that everything seems to be going well enough, until suddenly the steak is burning, the vegetables are also burning, and the cake batter in the mixer has exploded everywhere. He rushes around trying to clean everything up as smoke alarms blare, and then Todd’s right at his elbow, yelling over all the noise that he should go take care of the alarms, and Todd will take care of the kitchen, which seems unfair to Dirk because he’s the one who’s fucked this all up, but he’s got That Face on, the one that says “do this thing so I can handle this other thing and don’t fight me on it or I will get shouty and upset”, so he heads off to stop the blaring shrieking noise.

Once Dirk’s finished, he goes and sits in the corner of their living room, pulling his knees up to his chest and moodily looking over them. Everything still smells like smoke as Todd busies himself with whatever he’s doing in the kitchen, presumably cleaning up after his mess. Dirk can’t even _look_ in the direction of the kitchen. Possibly not Todd, either, considering how _magnificently_ he’s been fucking all this up.

There’s a rustling as Todd sits next to him, evidently all finished.

“You wanna get takeout?” he asks. Dirk shrugs, not looking at him.

Todd shuffled a little. Sighs. “I know what you’ve been doing.”

“Doing what?”

“You know. The flowers. This. The door opening thing.” Dirk winces, not particularly enthused about the reminder of that one. “I put it all together.”

“How?”

“If you’d want to brighten up the apartment, you’d have put the flowers everywhere instead of just our room. And I saw the chocolate box after I woke up and went to get some water while you were still asleep. The door just fit in with the rest of the puzzle.”

Dirk nods. Makes sense. Like he’s said all along, Todd’s very smart.

“You’ve been... trying to do all this big stuff for me. I just don’t know why.”

Dirk lets his knees lower and shift so he’s cross legged. He picks at his fingernails for a second before answering, wondering if maybe he pretends the question that hasn’t been phrased as a question doesn’t exist, he won’t have to answer it. Lets himself realize that’s not how it’ll work, and gives in. 

“I wanted to take care of you.” 

“What?” 

Forcing it out the first time to Todd’s face was bad enough, now he’s got to do it twice? “I wanted to take care of you. That’s what all this is. I wanted to take care of you.” 

“You wanted to...” Todd trails off. “I don’t understand, _why_  did you...” A little annoyance creeps into his tone. “Is this a pararibulitis thing? Because I don’t want any pity, Dirk, I thought I’d made that pretty-“ 

“It’s not a _pity_  thing, don’t be-“ Dirk clamps his jaw shut. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose, pushing back at his instinct to snap.

“You do your best to protect people,” he eventually says, after taking a minute to pick his words out more carefully. “All the time, always. You try and protect me, and Amanda, and Farah, even, although I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who needed protecting less _._ _That’s_ how much you try and protect people, you keep an eye on Farah, who could fight probably everyone we’ve ever met and win without breaking a sweat. You try to protect all of us. That’s how you take care of us. And I think… you deserve to have someone try and take care of you.”

“I.” Todd sounds floored. “You don’t need to-“

“I _want_ to.” Now he feels like a dam’s broken loose. “Todd, I _want_ to take care of you, don’t you understand, I want you to be all right, I want you to have nice things, I want you to have nice things done for you, I want to make good things happen for you. You’re so important to me, in fact, I think I might be in love with you, a little bit, maybe, possibly, probably, factually, as a matter of, well, fact, I said some variation on “fact” three times, that’s a lot, but it’s _true_ , everything about you matters to me, your cleverness, your kindness, your sense of humor, your smile, your, your _pulchritudinousness_ , it’s all so important to me, and I love you so much, and I just want to take _care_ of you, I want you to be happy and safe and, I don’t know, wrapped in blankets, but it doesn’t seem to matter, _because I’m_ _no good at it_ , I have massively fucked every nice thing I’ve tried to do for you up and I don’t, I don’t even know why you, you should just find somebody else who can, who can bring you flowers and not melt chocolate and handle doors like normal people can and cook for you and be, in general, a good boyfriend.”

Dirk’s words peter out and he takes a rather large breath to replace all the air that seems to have vacated his lungs, and another, and another. Around the fifth breath, all his words from before catch up to him.

“Did.” His voice is a little hoarse. “Did I just tell you that I loved you in the middle of a rant?”

“Yep.” Todd’s voice is higher than normal. “You sure did.”

“Ah.” Great. Terrific. So he’s fucked that up, too. Wonderful. Slowly, he moves out of being cross legged so he can lie flat on his stomach on the floor, pressing his forehead into it. Maybe if he does, all of this just… goes away and he doesn’t have to be a person anymore.

“Dirk.” Todd’s voice sounds softer than he expected. Fonder. “Get up off the floor, for Christ’s sake, I think the last time that thing got swept was when we moved back in. We didn’t even sweep after the bugs.”

“No, no, I’m all good here, thank you.”

“Dirk-“

“No, it’s very comfortable, very cushy, everything’s quite good down here, thank you.”

Silence for a second. Then Dirk becomes aware of some shifting around next to him. He glances over a bit, not moving his head much, to see Todd is also lying on the floor, in the exact same position.

“Todd, what are you-“

“This floor is not comfortable.”

“Why are-“

“Or cushy.” Even if he couldn’t just barely see Todd’s smile, he would have been able to hear it. “You lied to me.”

Dirk returns his eyes to the floor in front of him, struggling against the smile that wants to creep out onto his own face. “Would strategic no-truthing work a second time?”

“It didn’t work the first time.”

“Would it work _this_ time?”

Todd snorts. Dirk giggles, and suddenly there they are, two idiots laughing into the hard floor beneath them.

Eventually the laughter winds down, leaving them both a little breathless, Dirk a bit relieved that he’s not hiccuping.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Todd says suddenly. Dirk almost feels like he’s been brought up short physically, his entire being drawing up and suddenly fanning out, like a very quiet, very gentle explosion.

“Oh,” he manages. “Um. That’s. That’s nice.”

“And I’m not going to _leave_ you because you burned dinner, Dirk, Jesus.”

“Yes. It occurs to me, in the wake of… all that, that this might have been a slightly hysterical note to conclude with.”

“ _Slightly._ ”

“Shut up.”

Todd reaches out (without looking, which is obvious by how his hand knocks into Dirk’s arm for a couple tries first) and takes Dirk’s hand, linking their fingers together.

“You do take care of me,” he tells him. “You do all these things for me, Dirk, and I don’t even know if you notice, because that’s just who you are. You make sure I’m okay after an attack, and you go out and you bring me breakfast, and you try and make me laugh when you think I need to, you do all this stuff. You take care of me all the time.”

“But those are all little things.”

“But they all add up. It’s all those things that matter to me. That’s what makes me feel taken care of. And I don’t _need_ you to do all these big grand sweeping things. Don’t get me wrong, the impulse is very sweet, but I don’t need you to do all of that. I need you to just… keep being who you are. Because I love who you are, and I love all the little things. And if this is something that you _really_ want to do, then maybe… start smaller? I think your enthusiasm might be… getting in the way of doing things.”

“Do you know, that’s essentially what Thor said.”

“You talked to Thor about this?”

“I was a bit frustrated.”

Todd squeezes his hand. “Don’t be. Just keep doing what you already do, and you shouldn’t feel like you _have_ to do the gestures thing, but if it’s something you really feel the need to do, than just… try for things a little smaller, I guess. Baby steps.”

Dirk grins down at the floor. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They lie there for another moment or so, Dirk feeling sort of like they’re in a nice little warm bubble that he’d like to live in for the rest of his life.

“Why are we still on the floor?”

“Because you can’t talk to people.”

“You’re not people.” Dirk hears how that sounds as it comes out of his mouth. “Which I meant in a very nice way.”

“I know you did.” He sounds amused. “But you still lay down on the floor instead of having to look at me after you told me you loved me.”

“It wasn’t that so much, as, well, I’d just thought I’d do it nicer than that. Probably a little later, too, I wasn’t sure when the right time would be, but I thought there’d be, I don’t know. Flowers and maybe chocolate, but done right this time, and… sunsets? I’m not… entirely sure what romantic things are.”

“You’re doing just fine regardless.” Dirk can hear the smile in Todd’s voice, and it suddenly seems ridiculous that he doesn’t get to see it. He turns his head to look at him, cheeks dusted with pink, still grinning down at the floor, blue eyes crinkled around the edges. 

Dirk turns on his side and tugs on his hand. “Come here.”

“You don’t want us to get up off of the floor instead?” Todd turns as well, though, shuffling along as Dirk tries to pull him closer. It’s not something easily done, which is why he appreciates him getting closer on his own. “You know, like normal people?”

“Not yet.” Dirk lets go of Todd’s hand so he can put his own on Todd’s cheek and kisses him softly. Todd’s hand rests against first the collar of his shirt and then his neck, gently curling behind it as he runs his thumb back and forth. “Wanted to do that first.”

“Good plan.” Todd’s looking at him so affectionately that Dirk’s chest aches a little. “Wanna go to the menu drawer and find something we want to eat?”

“I’m warning you now, I may want to get a side from one place and a proper something to eat from another.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Todd slowly moves onto his knees, wincing a little. “Ow, ow, ow. Prolonged floor time is probably… not great for the future.”

Dirk also moves to his knees, experimentally stretching out his limbs. “Agreed.” He carefully stands and holds his hand out to Todd, who takes it and lets Dirk help him up.

“Oh my god, we have to sweep this floor.” Todd reaches up into Dirk’s hair to pluck a dust bunny out of it. “This is so bad. How do we live like this?”

“Do I have any more things in my hair?”

“No.”

Dirk considers it. “…are you sure?”

Todd’s grin widens. “I guess not.” He goes back to running his fingers through Dirk’s hair. Dirk tries not to purr in contentment, eyes closing. “Should I keep checking?”

“Probably for the best. Can never be too sure.” Dirk opens his eyes. “Todd?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Todd’s eyes widen a little and he blushes even deeper. Dirk beams. “I love you, too,” he whispers before he kisses him. Dirk melts against him a little as Todd wraps his arms around his neck, pulling him in a little so they’re entirely pressed up against each other.

“You stopped playing with my hair,” Dirk mumbles when he draws back, lips brushing against Todd’s when he speaks.

“Thought you might like this better.” Todd kisses him lightly again, and then again.

“Didn’t you want to-“ Dirk’s eyes flutter shut as Todd presses his lips against the hinge of his jaw. “Didn’t you want to get dinner?”

He keeps kissing his neck, lips very soft and very distracting. “Can’t we do both?”

He grins, stomach feeling sort of bubbly in a good way. “I’m not having the delivery person show up here while we’re making out, Todd.”

“Party pooper.” Todd does draw back, though, and Dirk is a little annoyed with himself for encouraging such a terrible thing to happen. He waves it aside, though, in favor of getting to see his wonderful face, which seems even more wonderful at the moment. “Come on. Let’s go order something and pick out a movie. But if you pick a horror movie I’m kicking you out to sleep on the couch.”

“ _Now_ who’s the party pooper?”

Todd grins. “Come on. The kettle escaped unscathed, although the mixer… might have to be replaced, eventually. I’ll make you some tea.”

“Aren’t you the one always making fun of my teas?”

“Your teas… taste fine.”

Dirk stares at him for a second, and then laughs delightedly. “You’ve _tried_ them. You _like_ them, you’re just an _asshole._ ”

Todd isn’t even trying to conceal his grin like he does sometimes when he has massive amounts of feelings, which makes it even more extraordinary. “Shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”

“You’ve been ruining my tea experience. I don’t know if I love you anymore.”

“First of all, you have probably been enjoying that tea more out of spite.” Dirk nods a little. True enough. “Second of all, will you love me again if I tell you that the tea I like is that one you have with the name that makes me embarrassed?”

Dirk gasps. “The Apple Cinnamon Walnut Cupcake dessert tea?”

“Oh, god, no, I regret saying that.”

“You _didn’t_ say it and you have to if I’m to forgive you.”

Todd sighs. “The… Apple Cinnamon Walnut Cupcake dessert tea.”

Dirk grins. “I love you again. Let’s go get the menus and you can make two mugs of that and I won’t ever make you say it again.”

“Thank _Christ._ ”

 

They end up falling asleep on the couch together anyway, dozing off after Chinese food and burgers to cartoons. Dirk wakes up briefly at some point in the middle of the night to see Todd, asleep on top of him, one hand resting on Dirk’s chest next to his head, his other arm hanging off the couch. He gropes for the remote on the floor where it had fallen, turns the TV off, and secures his arms around Todd before falling back asleep.

 

Dirk carefully adjusts the shoulder strap of his briefcase as he heads back to the agency. He’s recently bought this because it feels official, and they’ve got the money to spare, and it’s a rather fetching shade of yellow. Carefully hidden inside of it are the files he’s taken from their new police contact (a young man named Jenkins, who has bright eyes and always smiles very charmingly at and speaks very sweetly to Dirk, and who makes Todd go all squinty) and a bread knife, because Farah had insisted with all the people who want to kill them, and considering his general ineptitude when it comes to any sort of firearm, it’s just practical. Dirk’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to get the bread knife _out_ of the briefcase in any timely fashion in case of an emergency, but it seems to make both Todd and Farah happier when it’s there, so he doesn’t point that out.

Dirk pauses when he sees something out of the corner of his eye, taking the earbud blasting MIKA out as he kneels down. One of those small pink flowers that Todd loves is growing through a crack in the sidewalk, only it’s bigger than normal, perhaps the size of a daisy. He looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before he picks it and carries it with him.

He pushes open the door to the agency. “I’ve got the files! Where’s Farah?”

Todd’s surveying the corkboard that Dirk’s put up with all the pins and red string connecting bits of the case to other bits of the case because it always seems to work for the people on television. “Lunch with Lydia. Did Jenkins try and seduce you again?”

Dirk rolls his eyes, dropping the briefcase on Todd’s chair, just because. “Jenkins isn’t trying to _seduce_ me, Todd.”

“He said your jacket would look nice on his floor the first time we met.”

“Probably just wanted a jacket of his own.” Dirk kisses Todd’s cheek as he stands next to him, also studying the corkboard. “Don’t worry, I’m quite happy with the person with nice eyes that I’ve already got.”

Todd gives him one of those complicated eyebrow expressions. “Yeah, that was nowhere near as smooth as you would’ve liked.”

“How about this, then?” Dirk holds up the flower, dithers where to put it for a half second, before deciding to slide it behind Todd’s ear. It’s not a whole crown, so he thinks it might be acceptable, and it looks like he’s right, because Todd immediately flushes bright red and returns to staring at the board in front of him. “You look very fetching.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles. Dirk beams.

“You’re welcome,” he says cheerfully.

Baby steps.

 

Todd wears the flower behind his ear for the rest of the afternoon, and puts it in a small glass of water when they get home.

Dirk grins whenever he sees it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my Christmas present for Lisa! She asked for established relationship with Dirk trying for romantic gestures and not doing so well, so I tried this out! Merry Christmas, love, and I hope you like it! (she's getting it in an email, so she'll already know if she likes it or not)
> 
> Some story notes:
> 
> -I wanted Farah to have something she was scared of other than existential things like failure and being a disappointment and roaches seemed like a logical place to go with that
> 
> -Dirk Gently’s Holistic Roughly Twelve Line Run On Sentence Long Nervous Boyfriend Related Breakdown is probably the biggest run on sentence I’ve ever written
> 
> I thought I had more but it looks like I don't so I'll add more if I think of any!


End file.
